


Desert Mirage

by tadanomarz



Category: Naruto, Sound Horizon (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Dimension Travel, Fluff and Angst, Gaara centric for sure, Gen, also kankarou but it's too minor to tag SDKLKLD, deidara and sasori appear for a brief time but lmao, unbeta'd also ill go back to fix things later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:13:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23011552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tadanomarz/pseuds/tadanomarz
Summary: Gaara peeks his head from behind the rock structure, feeling an unnatural heat pulse nearby. It clashes with the usual cold chill from the desert and creates steam. When the light dies down, it reveals two figures, who are literally burning alive. Except, it looks like they’ve coveted the flames and they dance around the sand, burning indiscriminately.–Or, Gaara meets two strangers who become the wind at his back and comforting hand at his side.
Relationships: Gaara & Ichibi | One-tail | Shukaku, Gaara (Naruto) & Shaytân (Sound Horizon) & Layla (Sound Horizon), Ichibi | One-tail | Shukaku & Shaytân (Sound Horizon) & Layla (Sound Horizon)
Kudos: 3





	Desert Mirage

Sleep is a foreign concept to Gaara, he’s unable to even count the times because he’s always been shaken awake. If he did, the terrible monster inside of him will possess him and take over. 

Instead he uses his sleepless nights atop one of the many buildings in Suna and attempts to count the stars. It does little to soothe his mother- no,  _ Shukaku _ , his Bijuu who yearns for crushed limbs and the taste of iron. The assassins his Father sends help quench the mad tanuki’s needs and gives him brief moments to grasp at whatever parts of himself are left.

Despite clinging onto the fragments of humanity, Gaara knows he’s a weapon first. He’s hardly a person, but Yashamaru’s teachings of feelings help ground him granting him an anchor. 

Listening to the wind also helped quell the raging beast inside him. It became a welcomed background noise, drowning out the bijuu’s cries for blood. It sometimes whistles; it shifted and changed into different octaves, creating strange melodies that could be mistaken for whispers of those from long ago.  He pretends when it passes by him, its touches are gentle and they come to comfort and ruffle his hair. The wind does not judge who it plays with, it is impartial - barely conscious of who it plays with. The wind often plays with the sand, and they dance together until it can no longer hold on. Or until Shukaku rips the sand away, and forms it into weapons. 

Gaara doesn’t know how far Shukaku’s control goes, but he’s able to sense the smallest amount of movement outside of Suna. It’s like a tracker, it feels apart of him and Gaara sometimes feels phantom touches dance atop his skin. He senses the animals who roam the night, the merchant caravans passing through- 

The jinchuriki snaps from his thoughts when he hears Shukaku growl. Fear grips his chest, as Shukaku claws for control. The chakra signatures he’s barely able to sense flicker cautiously around him and he grips his poncho with a wheeze.

Gaara watches a shooting star arc down in the distant horizon. It’s unnaturally bright and for some reason he feels Shukaku squirm. Urgency flutters across him and he jumps from the roof, the sand naturally makes a staircase for him while descending down. On the wind, he hears the ANBU are out on the prowl.  He breaks into a run, and when he can no longer run, the boy stumbles and sand gathers at his feet. It forms into a cloud that he barely has condensed and he’s flying past Suna’s walls and he’s sure his Father must have been alerted already. 

While his head’s spinning from both anticipation and nervousness, he ponders briefly if Shukaku decided to assist him for once. His shoddy transportation flies him to the place the white light appeared. It sets him down behind some rocks, close to where the star had fallen.

Gaara peeks his head from behind the rock structure, feeling an unnatural heat pulse nearby. It clashes with the usual cold chill from the desert and creates steam. When the light dies down, it reveals two figures, who are literally burning alive. Except, it looks like they’ve coveted the flames and they dance around the sand, burning indiscriminately. 

One is a large man, his face painted akin to the puppeteers with white and red and sharp horns growing atop his fiery red mane. A large amount of magna pulsates atop his chest akin to a heart beat and Gaara wonders if that hurts. He watches how leathery wings stretch and shake themselves off.

The second is a young woman with twin tails, where parts of her hair are covered in fire. Aside from that, she looked mostly human– but there’s something strange about her.

Shukaku grasps for control and it makes Gaara wheeze. He clutched at his chest and sinks into the sand and he’s barely keeping it together. 

“You.” A deep voice rumbles, and fear shoots through him. “Why do you wander the desert?”

Gaara’s eyes meet with fire and he screams and stumbles away. His sand shoots up in defense, lunging to attack but the man burns it into soot with a wave of his hand. When his vision focuses, the man stands over him and he hears Shukaku hiss. 

_ “Let me take control, let me kill him!”  _ Shukaku roars and it takes everything to not let him out.

“Wait Shaytân.” 

Gaara glances to his right and the young woman is there. 

“He is a child, he must be lost.” The young woman said, she offered her hand. “We can help you home.”

“Who... who are you?” Gaara stutters, frowning. “Did you come from the star?”

The strangers exchange a look, but wear ambiguous expressions.

“It must’ve looked like that.” The young woman said, she didn’t confirm nor deny it.

Fear seizes Gaara while looking at the young woman’s gloved hand. His trembling hand reaches out, but he draws it back, afraid of what Shukaku may do.

“Do not be afraid, little one. I will not burn you.” The woman reassures, “My name is Layla, what is yours?”

“G-Gaara.”

She smiles and takes his hand and helps him up. His sand circle around her legs like desert snakes, waiting to attack and he’s so nervous if he’ll lose control. But Layla pulls him into an embrace and she feels so warm, and smooths out the sand in his hair. Whoever she is, the instant they touch, a comforting feeling washes over him and strangely it comforts Shukaku too.

“There appears to be civilization to the East.” The man named Shaytân quietly observes. “Is that where you’re from, child?”

Gaara quickly nods his head, but peers over at Shaytân from Layla’s shoulders. He is stern looking like his father, but his eyes twinkle with curiosity akin to his siblings when he watches them from afar. 

“Come, Layla. We should return him to his home.” Shaytân said, and he scopes her up along with Gaara.

Shaytân holds Layla in his arms, while Gaara clutches onto her shoulders for dear life. It’s not long till he feels the wind against his face and grains of sand flick across it. He’s too scared to even look, but when he takes a peek his green eyes grow wide. Suna looks incredibly beautiful from this angle above and he almost wishes this could last forever.

The moment breezes by and Shaytân gradually flies them near the entrance. He lets Layla down first, and she gradually sets Gaara back down too. 

The gates of Suna are tall and he already sees people approaching. Gaara frowns.

“Will I see you again?” Gaara whispers, hopeful. He doesn’t want to go back.

“If you search the desert when twilight falls, you might.” Layla replies with a gentle smile. 

A wind picks up and it causes Gaara to shield his face. The shouts of his Father’s men bleed into the white noise, consumed by the howling of the wind. When he looks again, the duo is gone.

* * *

Years later when Yashamaru destroyed any hope for him, Gaara’s visits to the desert became a regular occurance. He’d go to let loose and allow for Shukaku to wreak destruction. When he wandered too close to Suna, Father’s Gold Dust would rise from the perimeter and weigh down his sand, tightening a collar around his throat. It’d squeeze, and  _ squeeze, digging  _ through his defense and he’d come to repel the demon who yearned for the outside world once more. 

Gaara would wander the desert for hours, lost in thought, absorbed in the solitude that had become his constant companion over the years. In the distant corner of his mind, Gaara secretly yearned to see the people who arrived from the sky again, they didn’t look at him in disdain nor feared him. They treated him like a regular person, but he’s grown to understand the naïvety behind it. 

Regardless, it’s become routine when he was granted access to do as he pleased. 

The sun settled itself low in the horizon, where its blazing oranges bled purple, mixing together beautifully in result. The stars overhead only started to blink into existence, which signaled for Gaara to return to his prison. 

When heading back, something in his heart began to stir, goosebumps prickled against his skin. A strange sensation expanded in his chest, it caused Gaara to jerk around, watching the sun set just below the horizon line. The wind began to pick up, it howled in a cacophony of sounds, like the screams of the those who crossed him. 

The wind blinded his vision, and his absolute defense drew up to protect him. It continued to rage, and he wondered briefly if someone foolish came to challenge him. When his shield falls to give him a visual, all desires to kill are swept away like a receding tide.

The wind weaves together Layla and Shaytan’s forms, they start out as something transparent and ghost like, eventually color pops and Gaara’s eyes widen. He wonders if they're a desert mirage, if the desert was mocking him and his desire for companionship.

A moment passes and they notice him. 

“If it isn’t Gaara,” Layla calls fondly, she is warm akin to the desert sun. “Gotten lost from home again?”

Layla goes to approach him with open arms, but Shaytân stops her, eyes weary. 

“Far too long,” Shaytân observes, his thin brows furrow. “He’s changed, it seems.” 

Ah, of course this would happen, no one could love a monster like him. A monster could only love himself, it’s how he survived. They’re the same, the same, _same_ , **same** , _**same**_ – 

“Y... _yes_.” Gaara croaks, a strange smile spreads across his lips, he bared his teeth. “You’re no different from those eye sores in the village.” 

Shukaku smirks, and lets out a victory howl in the back of his mind. Gaara finds himself smiling too, because he can sense the type of strength Shaytân possesses. It is worthy of being consumed by Mother’s sand, who desired  _ blood.  _

The cork of his gourd pops up, the sand begins to spread across his skin, hardening and becoming a second skin. It spreads across half his face, and a sandy tail swishes behind him. 

“Foolish, you were foolish to come, I have the advantage,  _ idiot!! _ ” Gaara cries and shoots out a claw in Layla’s direction. 

Instead of disgust or hatred, Layla wears a melancholic one instead. She jumps away, avoiding his attack and his head jerks to Shaytân whose power pulses off of him. Gaara watches in grotesque fascination as the magma on the man’s chest drips and pools around the sand, hardening the ground all around him. 

He hurls it Gaara, whose sand flies up to defend. When the defense comes down, any willingness to fight drains out of him when watches Shaytân grow in height. The light encompasses him, and Shaytân turns into a giant par the size of Shukaku at full height. Or perhaps even larger– his legs glow and it feels disorienting. 

Before he gets a chance to move, Shaytân grabs him into a fist and Gaara  _ screams _ , Shukaku screams, it’s so hot. Shaytân’s grip is hotter than Suna’s desert and a tiny voice inside Gaara tells him he’s going to die and it’s okay because he’s a monster who deserves the punishment.

The wind around them is whipping around, growing intenser at the moment and Gaara feels his stomach pit. But amidst the chaos, Shaytan doesn’t say a word and Gaara grinds his teeth together at the audacity. Shaytân looks down at him in weariness and looks far older than he looks, but remains silent.

“What shall I do to him, Layla?” Shaytân asks to the wind after a few minutes, “Shall I end his miserable life?”

“No,” Layla replies cooly, she appears on Shaytan’s wrist, causing Gaara to wirthe. “Cool your flames, Shaytân, I do not want you to kill him.” 

Gaara attempts to wiggle away from Layla, who now crouches on Shaytân’s thumb. Sand attempts to swat at her, but she summons the wind and it scatters. The fire that burns him cools to a simmer, which causes him to gasp.

No one has been able to break through his defense, no one has– he squints and wonders briefly if this is a genjutsu at work. He turns his head away from Layla’s touch, which now cups his cheek. He watches her from the corner of his eye the sadness that pools in her eyes. 

Everything begins to spin now, and he notices how Shaytân’s form is shrinking and when they’re close enough to the ground Gaara stumbles close into Layla’s embrace. 

Again, she provides a comforting warmth that he once desired from his family. Gaara swallows uncomfortably, now looking at Shaytân behind her, expression unreadable.

“You’re still needed in this world,” Layla begins softly, “there will come a time you’ll be needed–” 

“As a weapon, of course,” Gaara remarks sardonically, lips pulled into a tired smile.

“No.” Layla retorts, firmly and it spooks him. “As an important figure who’ll guide the world into an era of peace.”

The winds begin to whip around him again, it makes his head hurt now– but he still feels Layla’s warmth. Gaara feels his consciousness fading but he focuses on the arms around his back. 

When he awakens, he’s back at the entrance of Suna with the wind at his back. It gives him a gentle push and he stumbles forward. He glances behind him, but the sun has disappeared, the stars twinkle above watching over him. 

Gaara shakily returns back to the gates to the tensed gatekeepers who exchange a glance. 

* * *

It’s years till he sees them again. Layla was right about being needed, because he went and met with Naruto and remedied the frayed relationship with his siblings. 

Gaara worked hard over the years, becoming the youngest Kazekage to date. 

When the Akatsuki comes for him, he does his best to protect the city who scorned him, who tried to eat him alive. His sand washes over the building, protecting it from Deidara’s explosions, but it wasn’t enough to save him. 

He’s caught in an explosion in his own absolute defense and carried away to his grave.

Deidara and Sasori still have the advantage of the night, they’re able to cover their tracks. But they neither consider that Gaara’s sand becomes a trail to find him. 

When the sky shifts, night verges on breaking into day, where orange and yellows bleed into the night sky. 

They don’t notice how the wind begins to pick up, how the sky begins to cloud over, nor how much darkness its become. The wind grows stronger and knocks Deidara off is clay bird and he shouts out in dismay. 

The pressure of the breaks the clay bird’s tail and Gaara’s near dying body falls. It’s rescued by the wind, much to Deidara and Sasori’s chagrin.

“What the hell is that!?” Deidara shouts, shooting his partner a glare. “This place, sucks, hm!”

Sasori watches carefully how the wind encloses them into captivity. He wordlessly shoots out Hiruko’s tail to test the waters. 

The wind smashes the tail, splintering it into pieces.

An up draft shots from below, throwing them up into the air. The merciless wind does not give them a moment to gather their bearings because magma soon follows and coils around their limbs. Deidara screams, both his arms are melting and his legs follow. The magna burns away Hiruko’s shell and Sasori breaks out albeit barely. 

He summons the Sandaime Kazekage and attempts to thwart the natural disaster, but it fails him when he’s surrounded too. The intensity of the fire burns his wooden puppet body, along with his scrolls and before his soul leaves him he swears in the midst of hell fire a demonic face carves itself into the wind. 

Both corpses drop into the sand, and the wind buries the bodies, giving them shallow graves. They’ll never be found again. 

Gaara’s body drifts back to the earth, the wind carries him down. 

Kankarou watches the desert at work at a distance, watching his baby brother floating down and it forces him into a sprint. When he catches up, Gaara falls into his arms, passed out but still breathing.

He runs back to Suna with the wind at his back. 

* * *

The seal containing Shukaku is the weakest it has ever been. 

Gaara lays at the pool, floating in his unconsciousness and the one tailed feels sorry for him. 

Shukaku briefly thinks of his previous host, the old priest who continued to endure in silence. Gaara reminds him of that old man, Bunpuku was the old geezer’s name. He doesn’t want to admit it, but Shukaku wants Gaara to wake up and take on the world– to continue to live. 

The Bijuu snaps from his thoughts when a flame enters the mind space, it glows bright akin to the star he watched fall all those years ago and flickers out. The horned man named Shaytân and the woman named Layla now stand there and he jerks back.

“You!” Shukaku roared, any fondness for Gaara masked away. “What the  _ hell  _ are ya doin’ in here!?”

“We came to talk.” Shaytân replied brusquely.

“We came to check in on Gaara too,” Layla adds in, now kneeling to his unconscious form and fingers through his messy red hair. 

Shukaku golden eyes switch back and forth and he crosses his arms. 

“I’ve been wonderin’ what the hell ya are.” Shukaku bellowed, “And why you care for this brat–” 

“Distant travelers from another horizon.” Layla answers mysteriously, she lifts her head to look at him. 

It reminds Shukaku of the Old Man Sage too, what with his cryptic messages and visions of the future.

“Gaara was always given the short end of the stick.” Layla begins, “but, that’s changed because of his new found friend– and you, right? And the woman who protects him.”

Shukaku doesn’t say anything. 

“He should be okay with your protection,” Shaytân adds, sending a cursory glance around the space.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re come for  _ him _ ,” Shukaku frowns, irritated. “What  _ are you _ ?”

“An amnesiac, nameless demon.” Shaytân answers. 

“A casualty of war reborn.” Layla answers next, and she waves a hand in the air. 

Images flood into the water, showing two armies against each other due a conflict regarding ones faith. A hooded girl stands in the middle and she’s struck by a fiery arrow and falls into a cavern where a demon sleeps. He grants her a wish and she is reborn from the flames that claimed her and together they put an end to the conflict. 

Shukaku wordlessly watches the display and stares at the strangers. 

“We only wish for his safety,” Layla said softly, “and the rest of this world– with what’s to come. So we’ll continue to protect him and you, if you’ll let us, Lord Shukaku.”

And with that, the ghosts of people of another world vanish. The tanuki contemplates their words begrudgingly watching his jinchuriki– no, his friend stir from being healed.

* * *

The Fourth Shinobi War inevitably comes, but they end up victorious. They ensure a future for generations to come and Gaara works closely with Naruto and the other Kage. Although another threat looms on the horizon, he knows with his dear friend Shukaku and his mother’s sand he’ll defend his home with his life. 

Nostalgic stirs up within him, prompting Gaara to go to the roof of his office. He and Shukaku have worked out an agreement, allowing him a few hours sleep. He no longer attempts to rage, nor cause him, instead he’s mellowed out considerably and has become quite domestic. 

He watches the distant horizon quietly, watching as twilight begins, where worlds overlap with one another for a short time. A gentle breeze passes by him, adoringly cupping his cheek and a warmth fills his chest. 

Glancing over, he watches the phantom forms of Layla and Shaytân dance on the breeze and head toward the horizon. It’s only momentary, but their eyes meet and he smiles at them and bows his head graciously. 

They flicker in and out of view and they disappear, and Gaara turns away back to the door leading downstairs with the comforting push of the wind at his back.

**Author's Note:**

> Embarrassingly, I wrote this within two days oops. Gaara was like one of my favs from my tween years and i finally caught up w/ all the canon naruto series and i am crying. Seeing him smile, remedying his relationship w/ his siblings and his friendship w/ Shukaku even tho he's bad with emotions? Absolutely valid I love him
> 
> For those unfamiliar, Layla and Shaytân are from Sound Horizon and are from the album Seisen no Iberia! I thought they'd be a good fit to parallel Gaara's struggles a bit, considering the demon (source of Layla returning a la a Phoniex / gave her power) / tailed beast thing. This is the first time I've wrote them so I hope I did well! I don't know if everything made ense but I hope y'all enjoyed!


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